


sometimes the night was beautiful

by blackandwhiteandrose



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Boys In Love, Established Relationship, Fluff, Late at Night, Love, M/M, Romance, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:20:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23512252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackandwhiteandrose/pseuds/blackandwhiteandrose
Summary: He’d swear he was dreaming, but he knows he’s not.He wakes up, craving.He wants to memorize everything about the sleeping form next to him.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 42
Kudos: 126





	sometimes the night was beautiful

_Don’t breathe._

As if the simple intake of a breath could somehow break the magic he feels in this moment and pierce the aura of contentment that surrounds them right now.

Of course, he has to breathe, but he does it slowly, gently, deliberately, thinking through the process, rather than just trusting it to happen.

He finds himself doing that a lot these days. Being far more involved in the act of breathing that he ever thought he’d need to be. But there are many, many moments recently that have taken his breath away, caused his breath to catch, or felt like it had been completely knocked out of him.

And this is another one to add to the ever growing list.

The curtains are ruffling from the just-slightly-cooler-than-comfortable breeze coming through the window and they’ve opened enough to let a mixture of moonlight and streetlight glow into the bedroom.

_Shimmer._

Is that the word? He doesn’t know if that’s exactly the word, but it fits somehow. Everything he can see has this hazy edge around it, like it’s just slightly not real. 

He’d swear he was dreaming, but he knows he’s not. He knows he’s awake, as he often finds himself about this time of night. Or morning, really. He falls asleep in a tangle of arms and legs, and deep breaths and whispered words, body and soul satiated, until he’s not.

He wakes up, craving. More touches. More kisses. More everything. But he waits. Gazes. Studies. Takes in everything his eyes will let him gather from the limited light. Listens for every sigh, or any change in breathing that might indicate he’s been caught.

He wants to memorize everything about the sleeping form next to him. All the hard lines and soft edges, the parts and pieces that aren’t so easy to access during the day, when everything isn’t so quiet, so still, so… 

_Calm._

The chaotic energy that radiates during waking hours is gone and everything is so peaceful, under a spell of sleep and dreams. 

He wishes he could see his face, wonders what he’s dreaming about. He knows the light would make his handsome features even more intoxicating. From where he is, his body curved loosely around his lover, there is still so much to appreciate.  


Perhaps his favorite of the features he’s sure only he knows, is the constellation of freckles, strewn haphazardly across the shoulder he’s willing himself not to lean toward and slowly draw his tongue over. He thinks of this like his star sign, his personal celestial guidance, bringing him back to where he belongs, night after night.

He debates taking his chances and reaching out to drape his arm carefully, grasp for fingers to intertwine and pull their bodies closer together. Just as he begins to reach, the bed shifts and he watches the sleepy stretch as a lazy roll brings them face to face.

_Galaxies._

There are infinite eternities glittering in the depths of David’s onyx eyes, and Patrick is determined to explore them all. There might be a slight blush creeping across his cheeks, now that he knows his early morning reverie of all things David has been discovered. Again. 

David says nothing, watching as Patrick’s eyes sweep over his face, with that slightly awestruck look of wonder and admiration. Like he’s not quite sure he can believe what he’s seeing. Like he has no idea how he is the one to share this bed, this space, these breaths with this beautiful man. David will never not savor that expression, that so clearly reads of both love and devotion, with just a little hint of amazement.

He reaches for Patrick, meets his gaze, and teasingly brushes his thumb over his lips, before he takes Patrick’s face in his hands. He leans in to press his lips against Patrick’s forehead, eliciting a soft sigh and fluttering lashes, then he moves to softly kiss his smiling mouth. 

_Don’t blink._

Their eyes meet again. No words exchanged, but a thousand things being said. Patrick thinks they have some of their best conversations this way now. Knowing each other the way they do, the trust in what they have together. It’s not exactly mind reading, but almost. The certainty that only comes with time and kept promises and the deepest kind of intimacy.

David was sure he’d never be able to look at anyone like this – past the carefully crafted façade and willingly, let them see the darkest parts of him. But he also never imagined there was someone that would come along and bring so much light even the dingiest, haunted corners of his soul would be illuminated.

He bites his lip, that same unmistakable brightness reflecting in Patrick’s velvety amber eyes now, making him warm from the inside out. It’s another one of those perfect moments that seems like it’s something he’d only fantasized about, made better by the reality of being pulled into a full-body embrace by the man he loves more than he’d have ever hoped could be possible.

**Author's Note:**

> ("sometimes the night was beautiful" - RM)
> 
> I just love these two so much. I'm thankful to have the distraction during all this weirdness. 
> 
> It's been a long time since I've written anything for fun, so I appreciate your feedback.
> 
> = )


End file.
